


Room Fifteen

by ahurston



Series: The Room(s) Where It Happened [11]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Episode: s04e12 Singles Week, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Motel Series, Sherwood Motel, Slightly Unsafe Driving, jerking off, post Singles Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:34:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22978462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahurston/pseuds/ahurston
Summary: This is an installment of the Sex Motel series, taking place just after Singles Week.*David and Patrick need a little privacy after the day's emotional revelations.Now if they can just make it to the Sherwood Motel before combusting...
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: The Room(s) Where It Happened [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1644181
Comments: 27
Kudos: 252





	Room Fifteen

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [OliveBranchesandRedWine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivebranchesandredwine/pseuds/olivebranchesandredwine) and [This_Is_Not_Nothing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/this_is_not_nothing/pseuds/this_is_not_nothing) for betaing and enduring the whiiiining!

“You're back,” Patrick said when David finally returned to the store. Patrick turned away from straightening an already-straight row of moisturizers. "Uh, did everything go alright on the quest for tea?"

“Singles Week took over the cafe, so no luck there,” David explained, setting down a steel thermos with a chipped, green finish next to the register. 

Patrick crossed the store and settled his hands on David’s hips, boxing him in against the counter. 

“And long story short,” David continued, “Nobody should use the microwave in the town hall basement, the gas station by the highway off-ramp only has chamomile, and Stevie should really find a more secure place for her spare key if she doesn’t want people breaking in to brew earl grey from time to time.”

“That was quite a pilgrimage," Patrick said, skimming his hands up and down David’s sides. “An athletic one too, seems like,” he noted, taking in the way David’s chest was slightly heaving. 

“Hoped you wouldn’t notice that. There may have been a tiny, insignificant amount of running involved. Power walking. Whatever. The tea may be a bit...shaken.” 

“You ran, for me?” Patrick grinned, his hands slipping underneath David’s sweater to press against the slightly sweaty skin of his back. 

David rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue the point. “I may have been a little motivated.”

“Is that so. Whatever for?” Patrick teased.

“Privacy, for starters. What I want can’t be done in our place of business.”

“Agreed. Called Betty, the Sherwood is booked up with overflow from Single’s Week, but she has one room left if we hurry. She’ll hold it for an hour.”

“Shit, we better close up fast, then,” David said, running his hands over Patrick’s shoulders. “I’ll sweep.”

“You’ll...sweep,” Patrick said, hands stilling on David’s waist. 

“And do that spreadsheet thing, the one with the pivot tables? Whatever it takes,” David said, with the firm determination of a soldier about to serve his country in an unwinnable war. 

“Wow. I should have told you I love you weeks ago.”

“You...knew you... _that_...weeks ago?” David said, mouth agape. 

“Months ago, David. And I’ve already done all the closing stuff. We can lock up and leave now.”

David nodded, head tipping back, eyes closed, his face working through a quick series of expressions that Patrick inferred meant something in the vicinity of 'overwhelmed' and 'joy.' 

"I might be a little bit motivated to get out of here quickly too," Patrick added. "You still have that go-bag in the back?” 

“Restocked and ready, after our last outing,” David said, opening his eyes and leaning in close. 

“Preparedness is very, very sexy,” Patrick said, an inch between their mouths. 

“Glad I know what does it for you,” David said, barely above a whisper. “And thank you for not making me sweep.”

*

David was practically vibrating next to him as Patrick started the car and pulled out onto the road. 

“So,” David said, with no further elaboration. 

“So,” Patrick replied, reaching across the center console to lace their fingers together. “We love each other. That’s a thing that’s established, now.”

In Patrick’s peripheral vision, he clocked David’s exaggerated nod, long fingers tapping on his knee, his mouth in a twist. 

“You okay? I know today was kind of a lot.”

“Yeah, uh. More than okay. Just trying to figure out what I want to do to you as soon as we get to the room. Or what I want you to do to me. I can’t decide.”

Patrick swallowed. “Want to brainstorm a little?” 

“Oh, just. Everything. Everything we’ve already done, plus like thirty things we haven’t.”

“Wow, thirty things.” Patrick scratched at the back of his neck, and tried to recall how heavy the go-bag had felt, wondering how many of the sex toys from last week were inside. 

“There are...thirty things...that we haven’t done yet?” Patrick asked, hazarding a glance at David. 

That was a mistake. David was giving him an appraising look that Patrick had begun to associate with a guaranteed late opening at the store the following morning. 

Patrick swallowed, loudly.

“Given the confines of refractory periods, basic hydration, and sleep requirements, I don’t think we’ll get to all of them tonight,” David said, reaching across the seat to squeeze his thigh, higher than any safety expert would recommend for Patrick to be able to successfully operate a vehicle. 

“Stop, please.”

David pulled his hand back quickly, grimacing. “Sorry, was that too much? I’m not going to, like, put you in the hospital with orgasm-induced exhaustion, I just meant -”

“Your hand, David. The talking is fine, it’s way better than fine. But please - you can’t touch me. I can’t promise not to drive off the road if you keep -”

“Ah.”

“You love that, don’t you,” Patrick observed, hands flexing on the steering wheel. 

“Who, me?” David said, a hand to his chest in exaggerated offence. “Love the idea that I hold so much erotic sway over you that you -”

“Alright, fine, yes - I’m into you. Really, really into you. Like, ‘need to get you behind a closed door as soon as possible’ levels of into you. Happy?”

“Very. Very happy about that,” David said, sounding pleased. “So. I was thinking...I want us to really take our time tonight. Do everything really, really thoroughly."

“Not that I want to rush, but, uh, how do you define ‘thoroughly?’ What’s the time commitment?” Patrick asked.

“Hmm. Until you’re shaking. Definitely begging. Cock leaking into the air. About that thoroughly.”

“Uh. Yeah. We can...do that. I can do that.”

“So brave,” David said, reaching a hand behind his neck and squeezing reassuringly before skating his fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. “You won’t have to do anything at all. Just stay very still and not come until I’m done with you.”

“Oh, God,” Patrick said, eyes nearly sliding shut until he remembered the imperative to keep the car in the center of the lane. “I’m...not sure I can -”

“Fifteen minutes to the motel. You can do this.”

“Not if you keep doing _that_ ,” Patrick said on a groan as David stroked the thin skin below his ear. 

“Doing what? Is the back of your neck an erogenous zone now?”

“Apparently,” Patrick said honestly.

"Have you ever gotten road head, Patrick?" David asked, dipping his fingers just inside the collar of his shirt. 

"Have _you_?" 

"Mmhmm. It's great, other than, you know, the risk to life and limb."

"I think...if I'm losing it from your hand on my neck I should probably keep my dick in my pants while I'm behind the wheel."

David sighed, tracing the corner of Patrick's jaw. "So responsible." 

Patrick eased his foot down onto the brake, and pulled the car onto the gravel shoulder. He shifted into park, and turned to meet David's open smirk. "I thought you wanted to get to the motel."

"Oh, I do. Need me to drive?" David asked, tipping his head to the side.

"Yes." Not waiting for a reply, Patrick climbed out of the car and circled around to the passenger side, opening David's door for him with a flourish.

David kissed him breezily on the cheek as they switched places. Time for revenge. Patrick reached into the backseat, setting the go-bag into the well of the passenger seat.

As soon as David had pulled out onto the road, Patrick's hand drifted to the fly of his own pants, easing down the zipper.

"Um, what are you doing?" David asked, husky and low.

"I said I needed to keep my dick in my pants if _I_ was driving." Patrick watched David's pupils dilate in real time. "Never said anything about you."

David shook his head, hands flexing on the wheel. "You're a menace."

"That's the goal," Patrick said, reaching down to unzip a pocket on the outside of the bag, where they kept one of several bottles of lube. 

Prize in hand, he pushed aside the fly of his boxer briefs to work his cock out.

"Eyes on the road, David." 

David groaned, letting his head thunk onto the headrest for a moment before focusing back on the road.

Patrick slicked up his hand, stroking it loosely over his dick.

"Oh my God, you're really doing it," David said, eyes flicking between the road and Patrick's hand on his cock.

"Sure am. But you're not going to watch. You’re going to do the _responsible_ thing."

David let out a quiet gasp. "You're evil."

"You love me though, apparently," Patrick said, rocking his hips to fuck his own fist. 

“Mmhmm, yeah. Yes. I do.” David nodded, squirming in his seat. 

Patrick let his gaze wander. From the curve of David’s cheek, to the line of his throat, to the way his sweater was pushed up around his elbows, exposing his forearms. He wasn’t even naked, and there was so, so much to see. 

“So this is working for you,” David said, gaze fixed straight ahead. 

Patrick loosened his grip, his cock twitching against his palm. “Uh, yeah. Just a bit.”

“I’m not even doing anything though,” David said with a huff. 

“You don’t need to do anything. It’s more than enough, just looking at you.” 

A high spot of color appeared on what Patrick could see of David’s cheek in profile, the flush creeping down his neck as Patrick watched. Patrick added a twist to his stroke, and groaned. 

“What is there to even look at?” David asked. “This ensemble isn’t even - I mean. Is it the Valentino?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Well -”

“You’re so fucking, _fuck_ -” Patrick tightened his grip at the base of his dick, stilling his hand for a moment. He’d gotten close, just then. 

“Oh, that clears it up,” David said, with a bemused laugh. 

“You could be wearing anything, or nothing. A paper sack, a novelty Christmas sweater - it doesn’t matter.”

“My clothes don’t matter?” David asked, the temperature in the car dropping by several measurable degrees. “And a _novelty Christmas sweater_?”

“You love your clothes, I love your clothes,” Patrick corrected. “And of course you look amazing in them, you already know that. But my dick is more interested in _you_.”

“Okay, I’m both flattered and offended.”

“You're offended that I almost came just now, looking at your forearms?”

“Oh,” David said, Adam’s apple bobbing with a swallow. “No, I suppose that’s...fine.”

“Well, if it’s _fine_.”

Patrick slid down in his seat, spreading his knees as far as the well of the passenger seat would allow before rubbing his thumb over his slit and stroking slowly, the wet sound filling the quiet car. 

David whimpered. There was no other word for it, though David would no doubt deny it to the grave. 

“Almost there.” David said throatily, flipping on the turn signal. 

“Yeah, _yeah_ , I am,” Patrick said. 

“I meant, we’re almost to the motel.”

“...Oh.” Patrick’s cock throbbed in his hand, circled tightly around the base. “Pull over. There’s gotta be...there. That frontage road. Behind those trees. No one will see.”

David complied. Thank god. 

*

“Please, David.”

“What do you need?”

“Something, now, something,” Patrick said, brain all static and stupid. 

David nodded, somehow understanding. God, Patrick loved him. 

“I’ve got you. Just a forearm isn’t enough?” David said, arching a perfect eyebrow.

“No, it is, it is - but...”

“I know. I know,” David said. 

Then David’s hands were at the hem of his own sweater, pulling both it and his undershirt off. Skin. All that skin. Patrick’s hand was flying now, and he was hanging on by a thread. 

“More?”

Patrick nodded, running his tongue over his lips, dry from how long he’d had his mouth open, panting. 

David leaned his own seat back, then worked his pants down below his ass, his cock bobbing free, flushed and hard. 

“Hand me the lube.”

Patrick reached for it with shaking hands, squeezing more into his own palm before passing it to David. 

Now, the car was filled with the slick, filthy sounds of both of their hands on their cocks, wet and dirty, steaming up the car’s windows. Patrick groaned, starting his visual journey down David’s body at the notch at the base of his throat. Down further, the coarse, black hair of his chest, rising and falling in quick breaths, hair narrowing into a line below his navel. And his cock, his cock - fuck. Long and thick, made all the more beautiful by David’s perfect hands - one gripped around the base, the other stroking, twisting over the shaft, closing over the head on each upstroke. 

“Gorgeous, gorgeous, so _fucking_ gorgeous,” Patrick chanted, back arching as he came, doing his best to catch it all in his hands and spare the upholstery. 

“Give me - come on, give it to me,” David said, and at first, Patrick didn’t know what he meant, but then, oh. 

“Yeah, I will. I will.”

Patrick ran the hand not already holding a palmful of come up his overly-sensitized cock, shuddering through it as he gathered up what he’d missed before passing all of it, all of it, to David, pouring it off his hand and over the head of David’s cock, anointed. 

“Yes, yes, that’s - that’s it,” David gasped, hips lifting off the seat, body one long, perfect line as he came. 

Patrick was mesmerized.

*

“This is what the go-bag is for,” David said airily. “Situations like this.”

Patrick’s boxers and pants were a total loss, and the smear of lube on the hem of his shirt was...suspicious at best. No need to scandalize the Sherwood’s staff any more than they doubtlessly already had over the last several months. Thanks to David’s fastidious preparations, Patrick knew there was a spare set of clothes for him in the bag. 

David carefully cleaned his hands and dick with a couple of wet wipes, depositing them in a conveniently included plastic bag for later disposal.

“You missed a little...there,” Patrick said, swiping at a rogue splash of come a couple inches south of David’s right nipple and sucking his fingers clean. “Got it.”

“...Thanks,” David said, eyes dark. 

“We’re totally going again when we get to the motel, huh.”

“Definitely.”

*

In the near-dark of Room 15, David took him apart very, very thoroughly, just as he'd said he would. In the trembling aftermath, Patrick ran a hand through David’s sweaty hair, pushing it back from his forehead. 

“I love you,” he said simply, as true now as it was earlier today. True as it was months ago. And Patrick was almost completely sure - true as it would always be. 

David rested his chin on Patrick’s chest, staring at him with those impossible, dark eyes. 

“I love you too,” David whispered back. 


End file.
